


Wily Serpent

by celedan



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Aziraphale lets go, Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Demanding Aziraphale, Kinky, M/M, Sequel, Serpent, Sweet Crowley (Supernatural), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Wings, sensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celedan/pseuds/celedan
Summary: Now that Aziraphale and Crowley have finally admitted their feelings for each other, and Aziraphale has let go of his insecurities, he discovers a surprisingly daring and kinky side to himself. Two days ago, he'd never ever suggested that Crowley and he have some kind of sexual relations while the demon was in serpent form!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	Wily Serpent

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the promised sequel to [Breaking Chains](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25443337), and obviously, I couldn't resist writing more GO although I said to myself that one story will be enough. Can't seem to get enough^^.

Monday. A new week had started, which, for most people on this planet, wasn't anything overly special. But for a demon and an angel that were currently wrapped around each other's naked bodies in a huge bed in a flat in Mayfair, it was the beginning of something new. Not only was it the beginning of their life as free beings, relieved from all restraints and obligations to Hell and Heaven, but it was a beginning of love.

So, when Crowley woke up this morning after a night of love-making and passion and confessions, and found his limbs tangled with the angel's, clinging to each other like two besotted foo... Okay, he had to amend, they  _were_ two besotted fools. Who if not them. Pining for six-thousand years. How embarassing. But so what, in the end, it had all paid off for them. His prize was right here in his arms, wrinkling his nose... cutely... as a speck of sunlight tickled his face.

What had been his point again?

In the next moment, Aziraphale opened his eyes, and Crowley's thoughts came to a slithering stop anyway. First, he looked confused, but when he met Crowley's gaze, a smile broke out on his face that would have made Crowley weak in the knees had he been standing.

But he wasn't, therefore, he could save face, and simply return the angel's smile with a satisfied smirk.

“Slept well, angel?” he asked, and tightened his hold around the soft body in his arms.

A mischievious glint appeared in the angel's grey-blue eyes. “Heavenly.”

“And that in the bed of a demon,” Crowley grinned.

“Indeed.” Crowley loved the mischievous twinkle that sparkled in Aziraphale's big, oh so innocent eyes.

They both leaned forward at the same time to kiss each other, and if Crowley weren't so besotted with his angel, he would have found this sugar-sweet eagerness disgusting. But as it was, he  _was_ completely besotted with the angel, so he supposed it was okay.

“Breakfast?” he eventually spoke the magic words that was the one thing to surely get Aziraphale's undivided attention and eternal adoration.

The angel beamed at him.

Crowley smirked. “Afraid I don't have any.”

The angel's face fell again, and he threw Crowley a stormy pout that had Crowley snickering teasingly at him.

“I'll drive you back to the shop, and make you breakfast,” he offered, still smirking.

“Okay,” Aziraphale agreed petulantly before he stole another kiss for good measure or punishment or whatever.

The (short) drive back to the book shop was spent in companionable silence (Azirphale's bitter complaints had been done away with earlier already while they'd gotten dressed, namely that it was so unfortunate that he had to open the shop today at least for a couple of hours, yadda, yadda, yadda – Crowley would never understand why the angel insisted on opening times, but if it made him feel better about it or like a proper businessman – pfft, right – who was he to argue), with Queen blaring from the loudspeakers, and Aziraphale having reached out to take Crowley's hand. Their entwined fingers were currently resting on Crowley's thigh while he drove one-handed.

In the shop, Crowley disappeared upstairs in the small kitchen of the building that Aziraphale called his home while the angel opened up the shop downstairs.

While Crowley could actually cook, he never had anything in his fridge because he didn't eat (much). He only owned the fridge for storing the sort of liquid food he preferred – the higher the percentage the better. Aziraphale on the other hand loved to eat, but for the life of him, he couldn't cook (he had actually no idea how the angel had spend six thousand years eating his way through Earth's culinary history without even once learning how to produce these delicacies himself, but, well, that's what he had Crowley for now). Therefore, Crowley found himself faced with an equally as empty fridge as his own.

Sighing in fond exasperation, he returned downstairs to slip from the shop, the angel's stomach rumbles accompanying him out onto the street.

It didn't take him long to reach one of Aziraphale's favourite bakeries (he had a lot of favourite food shops and restaurants, so, chances were good you would stumble upon one very soon wherever you went), and miraculously, no other costumer was in sight when Crowley stepped into the bakery.

Whistling smugly, he left the shop bearing a heavy, sweet smelling paper bag containing still hot scones, a sealed plastic jar of whipped cream as well as a jar of strawberry jam. Two steaming coffee cups completed his spoils.

After having breakfast together (kissing whipped cream and jam from Aziraphale's lips included), Crowley settled on his sofa for the day with his smartphone. To the angel's question if he hadn't other pressing matters to attend to, he'd simply shaken his head.

He really hadn't anything better to do at the moment. He didn't even really know what he should look up on his phone now. Just a week ago, he'd used the device to do research on the next tempting job. But now he realised that he had to look for a new hobby. Temptations weren't in the game anymore.

His gaze fell onto the angel, and a slight smirk quirked his lips. Well. Maybe a lot of private temptations would instead take place in the future.

“You don't have to do that, you know.”

Aziraphale's voice brought Crowley out of a satisfyingly fruitful research about exotic plants that were nearly impossible to acquire (theoretically). He looked up at the angel who stood next to the sofa, uncomfortably, maybe even anxiously wringing his hands.

“Huh?”

“Well... staying here the whole day. With me. I mean, I'm happy if you do, but... At one point, you will realise that my life is completely boring, and you won't want to have anything to do with me anymore.” 

The angel started nibbling at his lower lip worriedly which distracted Crowley for a moment as he automatically came up with some very creative thoughts about what he could do to that lips.

But eventually, Aziraphale's words registered with him.

With one eyebrow cocked in gentle exasperation, Crowley scoffed in amusement. “Angel, please. I know all of your whims and quirks, your merits, too, and you know mine as well. We've known each other for six thousand years now. We have had the longest courting period ever. Not even that Tolkien elves would beat us in that respect. So shut up, and eat. I know what I'm doing.”

He inclined his head pointedly to the steaming plate of take-away of Indian food that Crowley had gotten Aziraphale for lunch just a few minutes ago.

Cocking his head with a thoughtful expression, a small smile finally formed on Aziraphale's lips, and, looking relieved, he finally sat down at his desk to eagerly eat his lunch.

Even though Aziraphale didn't quite believe him, Crowley didn't get bored for the rest of the day, either doing more research on his phone, sneaking peaks at the angel when he didn't look, going out for this and that, or, at one point, intimidating the little pot plants and herbs the angel kept on the window sills of the shop and the kitchen above, suggesting kindly they grow a lot better, greener (they knew who he was, so they had hastened to comply with his pointed, suggesting scowl).

At the moment, after coming back from a brief shopping venture, Crowley had holed himself up in Aziraphale's small kitchen, unbestknown to the angel, to cook him dinner. Couldn't always live on take-away food or going to restaurants, Crowley decided. If he made an effort, he could give all those snobby cooks in Aziraphale's favourite restaurants a run for their money anyway. He simply didn't make an effort normally.

Now, he did.

He'd never cooked for the angel ever before. It would have been too intimate somehow, too telling. But now, everything was allowed to make himself and the angel happy.

“What are you doing?”

Aziraphale's astonished voice drew Crowley's attention away from his task. Briefly, he looked up from setting the table in the dining room that was set a bit apart from the upstairs show rooms of the shop. He cocked an eyebrow. “What does it look like.”

“Setting the table,” Aziraphale breathed, confused.

A smirk tugged at Crowley's lips. “Brilliant observation.”

Azirphale started wringing his hands. “But... but. Why? I mean. Did you cook? For me? You didn't have to do that, and...”

“Angel.” Crowley looked up to meet the angel's eye dead-on which stilled Aziraphale's nervous squirming. “Shut. Up. Now sit down and eat the damn food.”

He hated repeating himself so tediously, but the angel had a thick head, and it would need some cajoling to get it into that stubborn mind that Crowley wouldn't get bored with him, and, yes, actually liked doing things for Aziraphale (the angel simply hadn't noticed that he had been doing so for a long, long time anyway).

Aziraphale swallowed, indeed still unable to believe what Crowley had done for him, but he sat down at the laid table obediently, his wide eyes never leaving Crowley.

“Shop closed for today?” Crowley asked as he put various dishes in front of Aziraphale.

The angel only nodded dumbly.

“Good.”

Smirking, Crowley sat down at the table as well. He'd gotten both of them glasses of wine, but there wasn't a plate in front of him since he didn't plan on eating. He was known for having a nibble of his own cooked meals here and there, but since he didn't cook for anyone in the first place, least of all himself, the opportunity never arose (he'd only learned to cook because, two hundred or so years ago, he had tempted a famous cook who wanted to become even more successful, and therefore, Crowley had to spend quite a lot of time with that guy since he was incredibly stubborn, and full of his own skills, and therefore resistant to Crowley's negotiations regarding the temptation, the stingy bastard). Now though, he had actually cooked for someone, and, he imagined, would do so again in the future quite often. He'd had fun doing it, and had even more fun watching Aziraphale eat the food. Crowley knew what Aziraphale looked like enjoying food. The angel's little moans and ecstatic smiles were almost indecent, though he never seemed to realise. Crowley loved those sounds and those expressions, and now he loved them even more since nothing would stop him now from leaning over to swallow Aziraphale's obscene moans with a kiss.

He didn't. This time.

Instead, he indeed snatched a bite here and there, and to his astonishment, Aziraphale didn't even slap his fingers away (he hadn't thought that the greedy little thing would be willing to share, not when it was about his food). While munching on the little bits, Crowley continued watching Aziraphale enjoying himself.

“That was exquisite, my dear,” the angel said eventually, delicately dabbing at his lips with a napkin. “Thank you.”

Crowley shrugged nonchalantly. “Don't mention it.”

Aziraphale smiled knowingly, but didn't say anything else.

For a little while, they enjoyed the rest of their wine in comfortable silence, having moved down to the ground level and to their sofa and chair for that since it was more relaxing. But at some point, Aziraphale had started swirling around the last drops in his glass, staring pensively at it.

“What?” Crowley asked impatiently, and cocked an eyebrow.

Curiously, Aziraphale wouldn't meet his gaze outright.

He cleared his throat.

“Well. Ehm... I wondered...”

Crowley saw the soft blush that was forming on the angel's cheeks. A grin started to tug at his lips at the sight, and his traitorous heart decided to beat quite a bit faster at that.

Flustered now, Aziraphale put his glass down, and rose, just to pace around for a few steps before coming to a stop in front of the sofa.

“I wondered if we're still on... for the... plan...”

Confused, Crowley stared at Aziraphale. “Don't know what you're talking about.”

The blush intensified even more, and Aziraphale still wouldn't meet his eyes, but then, he raised his gaze determinedly, and, to demonstrate, hissed softly like a snake, and brought his forefingers up to his face, curling them next to his mouth to indicate fangs.

Crowley shook his head fondly, and was tempted to yank Aziraphale down onto the sofa with him to kiss back some sense into him. “You're ridiculous,” he smirked, then that expression morphed into a smug grin. “But sure, we are. Don't worry.”

Deciding to give the angel a little glimpse of what could await him tonight, Crowley stretched on the sofa, his long limbs on full display for the angel, his muscles flexing, and even his shirt rode up a bit to reveal a slip of naked skin and a trail of dark hair leading downward.

He smirked inwardly when Aziraphale's gaze was instinctively drawn to that small patch of naked skin. His angel swallowed heavily as he obviously tried to think of something to say.

Crowley's smirk broke out on his face, and he wriggled a little more on the sofa. “I don't know about your bed,” he began conversationally, “but mine's practically designed for accommodating a huge serpent, so we should probably head back to my flat.”

Aziraphale had to swallow again. Only with difficulty could he rip his gaze away from Crowley's naked skin to look the demon in the eye. He made an inarticulate noise before he stammered out an answer, “N-no...” He cleared his throat. “Mine's not as big.”

He blushed violently when he realised what he had said, and of course, Crowley couldn't help but tease him about the double entendre.

“Oh, I don't know,” he mused, “couldn't complain last night, but I'm all for repeat performances to be completely certain, you know.”

Once more having to clear his throat, Aziraphale drew himself up to full height. “Well,” he said commandingly, a little haughtily, “what are we waiting for then?”

Grinning, Crowley rose to follow the angel out of the shop.

The drive back to Crowley's flat was still as comfortable as this morning, but a certain kind of expectant tension and heated impatience hung in the air between them now, too.

He chanced a look at Aziraphale from the corner of his eye, but the angel was staring straight ahead onto the streets. He sat stock-still, but nonetheless, he had, as he had done this morning, reached out to clasp Crowley's hand.

The strong grip he had on Crowley's hand felt as if he considered it like a lifeline. He must be more nervous under all that badly veiled excitement than he let on.

Well, Crowley couldn't fault the angel.

It had come as a surprise to them both, really. 

Last night had been a revelation and salvation for them both, finally being able to lay their yearning for each other to rest, and to give Crowley's aching heart a chance to heal.

And the physical side of their new relationship... Well...  Now that Aziraphale had had a taste of the carnal pleasures, he couldn't seem to get enough (neither could Crowley, naturally, not considering with whom he was enjoying these carnal pleasures). And Crowley was surprised to realise what an unexpected dirty, kinky mind the angel had (though nobody could have probably been more surprised than Aziraphale himself, but maybe  six thousand years of pent up yearning does that to you; it definitely did to Crowley ). He knew Aziraphale could be wicked in a very polite, posh way, but naughty? Crowley would really like to know which books the angel head read over the years that gave him such kinky ideas... And letting himself be physically seduced by the Serpent of Eden definitely counted as kinky. Even for Crowley's lot.

And to suggest something like _that_ for the second time they had sex!

Well, if you counted the sex-marathon that had ensued last night as just “one time”.

He was brought out of his musings by wild honking and Aziraphale's sharp cry.

“Relax, I've got everything under control,” Crowley growled, but actually slowed down a bit since he didn't want the angel nagging at him again all the way about his driving style.

“That's up to discussion,” Aziraphale muttered, a little flustered, but it couldn't be so bad since he'd never let go of Crowley's hand.

Back at the flat, a sudden numbness overcame Crowley as he led Aziraphale into the bedroom, dragging him by their clasped hands. Uncertainty returned suddenly which turned into full-blown awkwardness when they stood facing each other in Crowley's bedroom for a moment before they disrobed. This felt suspiciously like a  déjà vu. 

“How do you wanna do this?” Crowley finally broke the silence when they stood facing each other completely naked.

Aziraphale was startled from appreciatively eyeing Crowley's body.

“Hm? Oh...” The angel blushed beautifully again. “Don't really know. It, it was just a thought.”

Crowley realised that he had to take the first step to break the tension. Swallowing down his own unfounded nervousness, he sauntered over to Aziraphale, never letting him out of his sight while the angel's eyes were fixed onto Crowley's swinging hips.

He stopped closely before Aziraphale.

“Come,” Crowley purred, and grasped both of the angel's hands. He led him over to the bed, and, finally relaxing, Aziraphale willingly climbed onto it, kneeling in the middle of the wide mattress. His whole body twitched like a nervous rabbit, and wide-eyed, he stared at Crowley without even blinking.

Crowley remained standing before the bed, took even a step back since he needed some space to change.

He hadn't done that in, well in the last six thousand years, but the change came to him as naturally as if he'd done it only yesterday. It felt strange, his bones, his skin, his whole essence changing, but it felt surprisingly good to stretch like that.

When he was finished, he looked up to the bed, marvelling at the new, unfamiliar perspective.

His forked tongue flicked out to taste the air. Oh yes. He could taste the angel's arousal clearly, so sweet and musky, so irresistible. The pheromones hanging heavy in the air were almost suffocating, and a delicious shudder rippled through Crowley's whole body as he tasted them.

Bringing his huge body into motion, he slithered up onto the bed. Aziraphale flinched in surprise when he saw the serpent for the first time up close, his pupils were blown, and he licked his lips excitedly.  Crowley felt flattered and humbled at the same time by all this naked desire in the angel's eyes.

“You're beautiful,” Aziraphale whispered, and his hand twitched so as if he had to keep it in check from reaching out to caress black and copper scales.

Crowley wouldn't have minded, of course. Quite the opposite. But if the angel needed his control right now, that was okay. Crowley planned to shatter that control soon enough.

He pulled the rest of his long, long body onto the bed, coming within touching distance, slowly encircling the angel's kneeling body. 

“What do you want me to do?” he hissed into Aziraphale's ear, flicking out his tongue teasingly so that he made him shudder delightfully. This close, he could breathe in the ever present layer of dusty books and old leather that clung to the angel, the particles of the subtle cologne he wore tickling his senses, but not in an unpleasant way. And under that and under the overpowering arousal, there was the angel's essence. It wasn't even just a smell to Crowley. It was a combination of everything that made Aziraphale who he was. It seeped into every pore of Crowley's body until deep into his own essence, and he held fast to it, never to lose it again.

For good measure, he flicked out his tongue again for another little taste, teasingly touching the forked ends to Aziraphale's ear. 

“Do you want me to do thissss?” And he closed in on Aziraphale even tighter until his scaled skin touched naked human skin. They both moaned, respectively hissed, at the feeling. Crowley made sure to form a complete circle around the angel. Then, he wound his body around him once again losely until he had him trapped in his potentially deadly embrace. The powerful muscles in the serpent's body shifted and worked in a rocking motion so that Crowley could rub his body against Aziraphale's. The motion had Aziraphale trembling softly, and he moaned deep in his throat. “Crowley,” he purred. Crowley's sensitive underside picked up on the vibrations of Aziraphale's body. He felt as if thunder rumbled through his whole body.

The angel could free his hands from Crowley's hold if he wanted, and he suddenly reached out, placing one hand on the huge warm body, the other flew up to gently caress Crowley's head. If Crowley'd been a cat, he would have purred. Instead, he hissed softly, and brought his big head closer to Aziraphale, rubbing his snout against Aziraphale's cheek. His tongue shot out to have a quick taste of the angel's lips. 

“Or do you want me to do thisss?” he suddenly asked, and used his considerable strength to force Aziraphale down with him onto the mattress until he had him laid out on the bed like a feast. He remained wrapped around him, draped over his shins, his hips, his tail wrapped around an eagerly spread thigh, the upper part of his body coiled on the angel's chest. Contemplating the feast being offered to him, Crowley met Aziraphale's wide eyes.

“Yes,” the angel growled, and laid his head back onto the pillow, offering his throat to Crowley in surrender.

Breathing in sharply through his nostrils, Crowley set to work. He descended on the angel, and started tasting him all over, just like he had promised last night, learning him so intimately all over again (it would never be enough; a thousand years from now, and he would still find wondrous new places on the angel's body). Occasionally, Aziraphale's body twitched as the ticklish feeling of Crowley's forked tongue flickered over his body, but most of the time, soft moans were the primary reaction he showed to Crowley's ministrations. 

Meticulously, Crowley worked his way over Aziraphale's body, worshipping every little part of him, tasting him, breathing him in, caressing him with the smooth, scaled skin of his long body, and once or twice, he even scraped his deadly, poisonous fangs against Aziraphale's skin that had the angel almost out of his mind at the thrilling, dangerous pleasure. 

The pale skin tasted salty, slowly getting slick with beading sweat. The hard little nipples hardened even more under his tongue, and when Crowley flicked his tongue over the soft belly, Aziraphale drew in a sharp breath before he relaxed again. Vividly, Crowley suddenly recalled how shocked he had been last night about Aziraphale's insecurities concerning his body. Onnce or twice in their long acquantance, he had teased the angel good-naturedly for his laziness and love of fine foods that was making him soft and sluggish, and he had watched Aziraphale blush heavily in sheepish embarrassment, but he just knew that the angel had never felt really hurt by Crowley's comments. Unlike the unnecessary needling a certain pompous winged asshole had made only recently as he had been reliably informed by his ashamed angel. So, no wonder the angel was self-conscious. Crowley had never thought it bothered Aziraphale that much how he was perceived by others. He'd always assumed that the angel was content in his own body, because, if he had so desired, he could have worked a little miracle here or there to get back into form any time. Therefore, last night had been a revelation, a shocking, negative one. 

But, Crowley thought, maybe there was a difference between feeling comfortable in your own skin when you could hide behind layers of clothes and untouchable good-naturedness than when you suddenly started becoming intimate with someone. 

His angel had no idea, did he? How desirable he was, how beautiful, in appearance as well as holy essence.

Well, they had the rest of their lives now together, hadn't they. If Crowley had to tell and show the angel that he was beautiful every single day of their existence, then he would do that, for Someone's sake!

Aziraphale relaxed even more when Crowley rubbed his scaled head against the soft flesh of Aziraphale's belly, playfully dipping his tongue into his belly-button that made Aziraphale giggle softly at the ticklish feeling, and once more grazing his fangs against soft, white skin which had Aziraphale trembling and mewling softly. The vibrations of that tone transferred onto Crowley's body again, and heightened the delight he felt by being so close to the angel, and taking him all in.

Eventually, he made his way further down towards his main prize. Hissing softly under his breath, and gently swaying his head from left to right in contemplation, Crowley watched the angel's flushed member intensely like a prey he was stalking, readying himself to pounce. His nostrils flared as he took in the mouthwatering musky smell of the angel, and the arousal he tasted in the air was strongest here. Tantalisingly slow, briefly meeting the angel's wide, expectant eyes, he lowered his head. He tasted and touched the angel's genitals which had Aziraphale crying out in shocked pleasure, and his shaking hands fisting into the sheets, almost tearing them in his fierce reaction. He bucked violently under Crowley, and only the serpent's inhumanly strong muscles held the writhing body still. Smirking inwardly with satisfaction, Crowley – much to the angel's horrified disappointment – moved even lower, neglecting again the part Aziraphale wanted his attention on the most, so he could have a taste of the delightfully soft skin of the inside of Aziraphale's thighs...

But it wasn't enough. Suddenly, it wasn't nearly enough. He had to have all of the angel. 

Another promise from last night echoed through Crowley's mind, and he trembled at the mere thought.

“Show me your wingsss,” he demanded suddenly, and playfully nudged his snout against Aziraphale's ribs.

Dazed for a few moments, the angel stared up at Crowley with lust-blown, incomprehensive eyes.

It wouldn't be easy for Aziraphale, Crowley knew that. He was still lying down and wrapped up in Crowley's body; his wings would be trapped by both their bodies, and being almost blown out of his mind with arousal would make concentrating to wish them into appearance in this plane of existence even more difficult. 

Nonetheless, they both needed this.

Taking in a deep breath through his nose, Aziraphale gave a jerky nod, and closed his eyes. His back suddenly arched, and two pure-white wings appeared beneath their bodies. A burst of celestial power like a wave of cold water washed over Crowley's body at the appearance of the wings. For any other demon, being steamrolled by this much holy power would have hurt. But he and the angel were so familiar with each other, so in synch, that for him, it was an overwhelming, sweet, pleasurable ache – actually, he'd never noticed when the angel's presence or touch had stopped being painful. Maybe it never had been in the first place... He couldn't recall that he had ever been hurt by Aziraphale's presence...

Eagerly, the serpent stared at the celestial appendages, and he shuddered and hissed softly when, as he shifted slightly, the unnaturally soft feathers brushed against his skin like a warm, soothing touch.

Aziraphale couldn't hold in a noise of pleasure either as Crowley's body caused fricion against his wings. Fallen or not, the most sensitive spot on every celestial being's body were their wings. Just touching them gently caused pure bliss to shoot through their whole being.

It wasn't a very common practise though, touching them. Most angels were either too clueless or too arrogant to waste their time on carnal pleasures, even ones as innocent as just grooming another's wings. Most demons weren't any better either. You could only ever really appreciate the sensation of touch if you had been given a corporation, if you've lived here on Earth long enough to see with your own two eyes what sensual touch could do. But unlike Aziraphale and him, most demons and angels simply came to Earth to fulfill their assigned temptation or blessing without any interest in life on Earth.

Heaven and Hell, if they only knew. Ignorant fools. If they would just take an interest, relations between the two parties would improving considerably. At least some peoples nasty moods would get better...

Once again, Crowley briefly met Aziraphale's eyes, who suddenly looked incredibly vulnerable. It was one thing to do what they had done so far, but involving one another's wings was a whole lot more personal which they hadn't even done last night. Letting someone else touch your wings required an enormous amount of trust, and was as intimate as it could become.

Well, they trusted each other implicitly, and still, it was something they had never even considered.

“You sssure?” Crowley asked. Even if he had been the one to ask the angel to get out his wings, he would step down if Aziraphale wasn't sure. They would get there eventually, so it wouldn't matter if it didn't happen tonight.

“I am,” Aziraphale whispered, much to Crowley's surprise, meeting the serpent's eyes dead-on. “I trust you implicitly.”

“With my life,” was what was implied in these words, too, but it went without saying, didn't it? They both trusted each other with their lives, they had done so only yesterday morning. But this was more than trusting someone with their life. This was trusting them with their heart. And Crowley would never betray that trust, as he knew that Aziraphale would never betray the trust Crowley placed in him.

His nostrils flaring in anticipation, Crowley finally nodded, too, and slithered over Aziraphale's chest. Reaching one of the angel's wings, he gently bumped his head against the delicate scapulars, hissing softly in delight when the fluffy little feathers brushed against his scaled head. Aziraphale shuddered violently underneath him at the contact, and he curled his shaking fingers into thight fists in the bedding once more. He flicked his tongue against the strong primal feathers that were quivering with soft rustles, playfully parting them with his snout. The touches weren't all that strong. Actually, Aziraphale shouldn't have even felt anything that strongly, but an angel's or demon's wings weren't ordinary wings. They were so sensitive that they were one huge ergoenous zone, and every little touch could either bring overwhelming ecstasy or blinding pain. 

Aziraphale jerked and writhed under Crowley as the serpent nosed through the soft mass, his wings twitched and wanted to spread out at the sensations, but they couldn't, held down as they were by their bodies. Sweet moans and breathless cries tumbled over the angel's lips, the sound of them causing Crowley's blood to boil with desire. 

“C-crowley,” Aziraphale whined, almost screamed, “oh please!”

He pried his hands from their death grip on the sheets, and raised them. He curled them around Crowley's body, his eyes impossibly wide with lust and urgency. 

“Please. Change back.” 

Crowley didn't know if Aziraphale begged or ordered him in that husky, wavering voice broken by pleasure, but nonetheless, both prospects were incredibly alluring to him. And his heart started beating faster as he thought of the possibilities why Aziraphale might have asked this of him.

A mighty shudder went through the serpent's body as it shrank and writhed, black and copper-coloured scales changing to golden skin, and finally, it changed back into Crowley's human form. He didn't even get the chance to get his bearings after the transformation when a warm body crashed into him all of a sudden. Demanding lips took his mouth in a desperate kiss that he only too happily returned as the angel's body pressed him down into the mattress. Wrapping his arms around Aziraphale, he pulled the angel in even tighter, enjoying Aziraphale's weight holding him down like a sceurity blanket. Aziraphale's wings, finally free, stretched behind him with a loud rustle that was accompanied with a relieved little mewl from the angel, and Crowley moaned at the sight and the tingling feel of gentle yet so determined power being set free. Instinctively, he spread his legs to receive the angel in the cradle of his thighs. Both cried out as their arousals pressed together, rocking into each other.

“Please, angel!” Now Crowley was the one who was begging his lover, arching up into him to be as close as possible.

Aziraphale ignored his begging (Crowley didn't even know what he was begging for, not consciously at least), and instead descended onto his heaving body, kissing and licking and biting every bit of sweat-slick skin he could reach. He was driving Crowley mad with his strong, sure touch, leaving marks on him that would later be proof of his passion. He was like a wildfire consuming Crowley, ablaze with lust that seemed to set the angel free of any constrictions that still held him. All the hesitant, shy wonder of touching each other for the first time, the bashfulness that even Crowley hadn't escaped from last night, was gone now as it seemed that his angel had overcome all that incredibly fast, too. If Crowley didn't know better, he would say Aziraphale was possessed by an evil entity, that was how uncharacteristic this throwing himself head-first into the pleasures of the flesh (or into anything, mind you) was.

He didn't complain, naturally. It's just, it was such a novel side of Aziraphale. Just like his body, Crowley would probably discover millions of new, unexpected aspects of his angel in the years to come. And he would do so gladly and with burning enthusiasm.

Aziraphale made his way up Crowley's body to take his mouth in another bruising kiss. Crowley moaned into the angel's mouth in delight. Strong fingers slid into his hair, tightening almost to the point of pain which he relished, the other hand onto his back, and suddenly, he was yanked upwards. He gasped in surprise as the angel's unexpected strength pulled him up until the demon's lean form was straddling Aziraphale's lap. Wide-eyed, he stared into Azirphale's eyes, his body poised over the angel's body like a coiled spring, the muscles in his thighs flexing, but then, suddenly, he went almost limp in Aziraphale's hold when the hand on his back started applying pressure against skin, and flesh, and muscles. He gasped loudly, and clawed his fingers into Aziraphale's shoulders as that hand that was pressed against the sweat-slick flesh of Crowley's back suddenly became searingly hot. More gentle but insistent pressure, then Aziraphale reached into Crowley's very being, shattering dimensional barriers until he could sink his fingers into soft plumage. 

Crowley cried out violently as blinding bliss swept over him. 

“Show me,” the angel hissed urgently, mouth pressed against the madly fluttering pulse-point of Crowley's neck, “let me see them.”

Crowley let go, surrendered himself to Aziraphale's will, and his wings were yanked into existence abruptly by the angel's demanding, protective hands. Raven-black feathers spread out behind him with a loud rustle as the appendances had the chance to spread and stretch themselves in this plane.

In the next second, Aziraphale's mouth was on Crowley's again. Open-mouthed kisses, breathing into each other's mouths, and while clinging so desperately to each other's sweat-slick skin with one hand, the respective other reached over their shoulders to bury itself once more in soft, strong, black and white feathers.

The joint screams of ecstasy echoeing through Crowley's bedroom suddenly weren't really human. The plants in the room, in the whole flat, cowered under that primal noise unbekown by the beings having emitted them. The air crackled and hissed around angel and demon as, now that their wings had materialised, their celestial and infernal energies collided. Yesterday, it had been a gentle, smooth blending of their beings, but this was like a violent thunderstorm, hot air clashing with cold, bringing forth the most vicious and strongest of blizzards that had, Crowley imagined, the power to shake the foundations of Heaven and Hell.

Suddenly overwhelmed with that transcendental lust, his hand let go of Aziraphale's wings. All the power in his limbs left him, and he actually sighed in relief when Aziraphale stopped touching his wings as well; the feelings were too dazzling as that they could be endured for too long. Trembling with pulsing ecstasy, he was almost delirious with the lingering sensations of Aziraphale's touch to his wings, hanging bonelessly in Aziraphale's arms. The only thing holding him up was the angel's firm even though equally as trembling hold around his heaving body as they came down from their high.

“Angel,” he rasped, begging, and once more sought out Aziraphale's mouth. 

“Tell me, dearest,” Aziraphale whispered back, urging him on with his lust-rough, gentle voice. 

“I'm yours to do with as you please,” Crowley gasped, “I beg you, please.”

Aziraphale pulled back to look into Crowley's wide-blown eyes. Crowley swallowed at all the heady emotions he saw lurking and swirling in the angel's eyes, though all in all, unfairly, Aziraphale still seemed to be much more unfazed by the whole indescribable experience. Or, Crowley supposed, he simply had more control. 

He wanted to see that control shatter completely.

“Please,” he whispered again, and him begging once again, so vulnerably and earnestly, crossed that last boundary. 

The angel's eyes widened impalpaply. Suspended in time, they hovered in their embrace for a few seconds, although it could have very well been years. Then, Aziraphale's hands flew to Crowley's hips, shifting him, positioning him for another, more physical nature of pleasure, and Crowley nodded.

They both cried out as Aziraphale thrust up into him, and Crowley shuddered at the cool, soothing sensation of lube. Even out of his mind with desire, Aziraphale still cared about his well-being, never doing anything to hurt Crowley, not anymore. Something tightened in Crowley's chest at that.

Wrapping his arms tightly around Aziraphale, Crowley clung to him as he got used to the overpowering feeling of having the angel filling him out, gulping in huge lungfuls of air as he let his body adjust. 

He gave him but a moment to adapt, then Aziraphale tightened his grip on Crowley's bony, sweat-slick hips to thrust up into him, again and again with a forcefulness that had Crowley screaming in pleasure. Oh, this was what he had wanted; Aziraphale letting go, being greedy up to the point of just taking what he wanted simply for his own pleasure. It was a beautiful sight, the feral gleam in the angel's eyes as he took Crowley hard, and fast, and oh so deep, greedy little noises puffing out between parted, rosy lips into Crowley's own panting mouth.

He tightened his legs around Aziraphale, and before he could blink, he was back on his back. He went slack, once more yielding completely, and, surprisingly, Aziraphale pulled out to flip Crowley around, sturdy hands yanking him up onto hands and knees before he was filled forcefully once more. His back arched at the sensation, as did his wings. Aziraphale's fingers were digging into Crowley's hips as he took him over and over, and the demon basked in the angel's almost violent forcefulness, in his unleashed baser instincts. For once, Aziraphale was holding nothing back, all of the prim and proper swept away for the moment to leave a greedy creature that was thriving on the ecstasy coursing through its body. That knowledge caused Crowley's own arousal to spiral higher and higher.

He pushed back, meeting every forceful thrust. His wings rustled, and trembled, and arched, begging to be touched, but Aziraphale didn't. Not yet.

When pleasure began coiling tightly in his core, Crowley was once more reduced to begging, and this time, his angel complied, so as if he sensed the demon's approaching climax. The second that strong fingers sank into his plumage, Crowley snapped. A mighty shudder ran through his whole body up to the tips of his feathers, he stilled for a second before hitherto unkown pleasure – physical and spiritual united into a immeasurable mixture – broke out of him like a dam that had burst.

He couldn't tell if the ground shook in Mayfair with the force of his orgasm, but it could very well be. 

He suddenly went limp, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, and he crashed to the bed. Aziraphale's strong hands held his hips aloft as he used Crowley's wrung out body for his own mounting pleasure, slamming into him over and over until he finally found his climax, too.

Crowley cried out Aziraphale's name as he felt the angel pouring his essence into him, the feeling so dirty and erotic, but also so right and divine that his whole being shuddered weakly in another orgasm.

Not letting himself get comfortable just yet, he twisted around, his flexible body allowing him to bend and writhe in ways no human ever could, and caught the panting, trembling angel into his arms. He arranged their sluggish limps to his satisfaction until they were so entangled in each other's embrace that none could tell where Crowley's body began and where Aziraphale's ended. 

Slowly, their corporations came to rest. Heartbeats slowed down and lungs went back to working at a healthy level.

Crowley raised a heavy, sluggish hand to card his long fingers through damp, fine hair the colour of the moon and the sun. His other hand sneaked down to Aziraphale's limp wings covering them both. The angel actually started purring contentedly when Crowley gently petted the white feathers. His own had disappeared, so overwhelmed had he been by the ecstasy of their coupling that he hadn't been able to concentrate on them any more. Now though, he contemplated bringing them back because he liked the blissful, soothing feeling of his wings touching Aziraphale's. Maybe he would. In a minute or so. When he could think again more clearly.

“Angel?” he mumbled drowsily which was answered with a non-committal noise that blew warm breath onto his damp chest. He laughed softly at the normally so articulate angel, never stopping caressing his hair or wings. “Any more kinky ideas in that head of yours that you'd like to act out?”

Aziraphale made another inarticulate noise before he, with some difficulty, raised his head so he could look Crowley in the eyes. With some satisfaction, the demon noticed that the angel looked as completely wrecked and debauched as Crowley felt.

“I'm a very literate being, my dear,” he grumbled sleepily. “Surely I will think of something.”

Crowley actually laughed at that, and pressed the angel's head back down to its resting place on his chest with gentle force. Aziraphale relaxed completely against him, and both felt the pull of sleep. “Good to know, angel,” he snickered softly, “good to know.”

**End**


End file.
